Morning Dew
by Sound Of A Crescendo
Summary: Little did the sun know, the droplets would always return. Madam/Grell. Fluff Warning.


Due to popular demand, more Anne/Grell!

_So Anne are you OK?  
Are you ok Anne?  
You've been hit by--  
You've been hit by--  
A Smooth Criminal..._

_**-MJ**_

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It was cold here she realized. Even as the morning sun caressed over the lawn in shimmer-- there was no warmth. Angelina would consider then that she was she envious of those dew drops that captured the light of the heavens ever so briefly. While their existence was short and perhaps even trivial, they were for a moment breathtakingly the most beautiful thing in the garden. A natural beauty, one made by mere chance and yet enhanced everything around it merely by being present. Unlike the roses they coated, they didn't need to be cultivated or trimmed into submission. Unlike the bushes of lilac they did not need to be planted along the fountain base and told how to grow-- they existed wherever they pleased. They decided when they would stir in the gentle breeze, gather together, and glide down over the velvet softness of crimson petals. For a moment they were the queen over all they surrounded, and the garden bowed to their rein.

Yet all good things came to an end. Theirs Angelina would muse, was a bittersweet one. Just when the morning and crowned their leader, something would happen. The sun that gave their golden droplet effect would slowly rise higher, leaving the droplets to become but a mundane coating of water. Yet, the sun was further jealous of that beauty he had given to the garden, cloud shifting by almost in fear as they watched. As he rose higher, the temperature would follow. Soon all but would remain of that heavenly coating was a memory. Its final droplets evaporated before even hitting the ground.

Scarlet irises would turn in the sea of white, eyes focusing onto the crimson haired male resting against her side in the morning sun. Little did the sun know, the droplets would always return. They were resistant, resilient, and in love with the warmth their sun briefly gave them. It mattered not that the sun would kill them, for the fact that they had been completed but a second before.

**"Grell."** She whispered, naked fingers brushing through the fine crimson strands that covered his face. **"Wake up, dear."** Her voiced cooed, delicate nails fixing his way-ward hair behind his ear and exposing his peaceful features. Anne would muse at how innocent he looked, body stretched out over the damp stones and head resting lightly into her lap. Glasses askew and those brilliant strands of hair tussled from his awkwardly placed nap. **"Hnnn, being stubborn are you?"** Anne would whisper, sliding her fingers down over his cheek to slide under the male's chin.

Like the dewdrops before the sun, she waited for him to rise-- but he did not. Instead he murmured something softly in his sleep that made her own cheeks darken. She chuckled softly then, bemused by his resistance to rise. **"Alright you..."** She whispered, leaning over him slowly until she could level those cherry painted lips an inch from his face. **"You win."** She breathed out, stirring the strands of hair around his face. She studied his beauty for a moment then, caressing her fingertip over his chin briefly. Her own head was dipped then, scarlet strands caressing over his pail flesh and mingling into his own crimson strands.

Her lips met his own gingerly, marvelling at how soft he was as she caressed the touch along him like a feather. She'd pause then, feeling him shift underneath her but not quiet yet awake. So she would continue, tilting his head with a digit to his chin and angling her head just right to deepen that intimate caress. Like a dewdrop sliding down the velvet pedal of a rose she drew her lips against his own. Coaxing Grell into a response was not an easy task she would come to realize, but one she welcomed as she parted their lips and gingerly drew his bottom lip into her moisten cavern. She nibbled at him briefly, feeling him shift under her with delight. He murmured something in his half asleep stupider, and she'd grin against the skin she tortured.

Releasing that lower lip, she instead deviled her tongue into him. Brushing past his pale lips to glide up against the males tongue with her own. The delicate muscle flicked along the motionless one, stimulating it with a light caress and causing it to curl in response. Glee found her then, almost giddily as she lead the tongue to follow her out of his mouth.

That was how he woke up, his tongue captured inside his ladies mouth, and a deep purr vibrating from her throat. Green eyes would widen slowly, confused briefly by the situation and almost choking on his moan as she swallowed against the muscle she had captured. Grell however gave in rather quickly to her, eyes sliding half lulled as he lifted a hand to cup the side of her face. He hummed out something, watching her ruby shaded eyes glint with a devious expression.

It was just when his tongue caressed up against Anne's, that he heard the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat. Now, Grell would have merely ignored this, for it seemed much less important then the delicious taste of raspberry biscuits his lady had consumed for breakfast-- if it had not sounded again shortly after with a much more annoyed air. He paused, which caused Anne to pause-- the women seeming to suddenly clue into the sound with a tinge of dread. He almost chuckled as her cheeks darkened with embarrassment. Oh right-- being found in such a compromising position with ones Butler was /hardly/ lady like.

They de-tangled from one another quickly, scarlet eyes lifting reluctantly to glance towards the shadowing form that had snuck up behind her. Anne would blink, not recognizing the sharp expression of the businessman before her. There was something about that emotionless acid gaze that seemed to reprimand her for actions with out even speaking. She swallowed, fingers unconsciously tightening around the reaper in her arms. **"Grell..."** She voiced softly, drawing the man's attention towards her. The reaper, whom had adverted his eyes like the submissive role he acted so well-- lifted his gaze curiously. That amused mirth in his eyes quickly drained away as he studied the manager before him. _ohcrap._

**"W-william!"** The reaper exclaimed, feinting happiness to see the older shinigami. His act however could not hide the colour that had drained from his face. Almost unconsciously his fingers had closed over the digits of the lady he still rested against, as if to sooth her confusion from the unexpected guest. William's eyes would notice this, taking in the delicate blush over the women's cheeks and the hints of devotion in those scarlet eyes. He tsked softly, looking back to their clasped hands and finally drawing his gaze up to the nervous expression in Grell's eyes.

William really hated his job sometimes.

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I know what you're thinking. What an awkward place to end the story at. I tried to write further but everything I tried to write seemed to take away from the setting and the beauty in the first part. I'll leave you to imagine what happened.


End file.
